The car stopped in front of the Erdogan Mansion. Alihan looked over at Azra, who had fallen asleep on his shoulder. Her face was etched with the exhaustion of the day, a testament to how taxing it had been for her.
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08 | STRIP
The car stopped in front of the Erdogan Mansion. Alihan looked over at Azra, who had fallen asleep on his shoulder. Her face was etched with the exhaustion of the day, a testament to how taxing it had been for her.
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I was a child who began to imagine just to escape realityβnow here I stand, holding onto one of those escapes, Revulsion.
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